


From Prisoner to Friend

by Hello_Spikey



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Domestic, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hakoda (Avatar) is a Good Parent, Zuko (Avatar) whump, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-27 09:54:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30120987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hello_Spikey/pseuds/Hello_Spikey
Summary: I really, really liked it when Zuko offered himself as a prisoner to the Aang Gang and I was offended they didn't take him up on it.The Gaang are still good guys, so this doesn't get too dark, but Zuko is good at bringing the hurt on himself all by himself.  Zuko/Honor is the most abusive relationship in this fandom.Mostly canon-compliant. Relationships that aren't cannon are ... merely flirtation.  Sorry.My earlier post "Laundry Day" is actually a part of this.  You'll see when it comes in. :D
Relationships: Aang & Zuko (Avatar), Aang/Katara (Avatar), Katara/Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Suki (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Suki/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 62
Kudos: 204





	1. Prisoner by Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko gives himself up to the Gaang as a prisoner. They decide yeah, okay, they're doing this.

“If you won’t let me join you.” Zuko dropped to his knees and held up his wrists. “Then perhaps you’ll take me as a prisoner.”

He held his breath, silently begging, please don’t reject this, it’s all I have left. 

“That’s stupid,” the boy, Sokka, said. “What would we even do with a prisoner?”

“I can make tea?” It wasn’t the most useful skill to bring up first, but Zuko peeked and saw that his erstwhile enemies were confused. “And fire. That’s the point, isn’t it? You get what you want, and you won’t have to trust me.”

“You aren’t thinking of doing this?” Katara’s voice was hard and cold.

“I don’t know,” the avatar, sounding hopelessly young. 

Then something terrifying happened. The ground leapt up and swallowed his hands and wrists. A roughly dressed little girl stepped forward with vacant, cloudy eyes and a wicked smile. “Quit pussyfooting around! Someone gives you a present, you take it!”

“Toph! Let him up!”

“Why? Aang needs a fire bender to teach him, right? Here’s one just dropping into our lap!”

Katara’s voice trembled with rage. “You don’t know what he did!”

“Does it matter? He’s a prisoner. He’s not doing anything right now without my say-so.” As if reacting to her words, the stone around him tightened and lowered, pulling him into the floor. He was terrified, but tried to keep from expressing it. He’d faced earth-benders before. Not on his knees, unarmed, and already trapped but … 

Zuko told his mind to shut up. 

“Stop, we don’t do this.” The avatar again. 

“It’s all right,” Zuko said.

The avatar was right there, now, squatting to peer at him. “How is this all right?”

It was unnerving, that wide-eyed stare. There was anger there, but also compassion. Aang was, Zuko thought, trying to understand. “Because this is what I deserve.”

There was a flicker of something. Maybe it was understanding. Aang stood up. “Okay, I guess we’re doing this.”

***

After a great deal of arguing about guard duties and security and an unfortunately frequent use of the phrase “babysit the prince,” the earth-bender Toph fashioned a chain connecting his wrists with about a foot of give. The links were fatter and heavier than a metal chain would be – and how charming that he could recall the difference. He flexed his fists to take some of the strain. 

Then they just stared at him, like an unexpected baby rhino who wasn’t housetrained. “Uh … I could show you my stuff.”

Sokka pointed at him with his boomerang. “This is NOT that kind of bondage.”

At least everyone was now looking at SOKKA like he peed on the carpet.

Toph said, “I don’t get it.”

Zuko smacked the stone cuffs together to get everyone’s attention back. “I meant my camp. Where my things are. So you can take them.”

“I don’t see how that follows.” Sokka scratched his chin with his boomerang.

“You captured me. Therefore, you’ve captured my stuff.”

Toph threw her fists in the air. “Aw yeah, robbery! Royal junk!”

And so Zuko found himself leading a small party down to the forest. Sokka poked him in the back with his boomerang. “If this is a trap, I’m going to cut off your royal junk.”

Zuko looked over his shoulder and tried to indicate with a nudge of his head that there was a CHILD walking right next to them, two if you counted the avatar, and royal junk was not an appropriate conversation topic.

“OH,” Toph, the said child, laughed. “Junk. Stuff. You’re talking about his dick. I get it.”

Zuko stopped in his tracks and was rewarded with a hard shove from Sokka. He was embarrassed, angry, and it was not the fifteenth jab in the back. He whirled on Sokka and threw up his bound hands. “I gave myself up. I’m wearing chains. You have two benders and a weapon at my back. You still don’t trust me?”

Sokka’s tone and expression were unmoved. “Excellent summary of the situation, prisoner-boy.” And he waited, arms crossed, like he could wait all day.

UGH. He had to turn, and walk, and fume at himself. He was, or had been, a PRINCE. He should be the last one to lose his temper, not the first. At least not every single time.

Zuko didn’t think he could make it all the way back to his camp without combusting from pure irritation, but then he saw a flash of red through the trees. “There it is,” he raised both hands to point.

At last, Sokka laid off jabbing his back and ran forward. “A war balloon? We get a war balloon?” He danced around, excitedly inspecting the engine.

The avatar hadn’t spoken the whole walk, and was somber now as he came to a stop near the small pile of supplies under the spread balloon. After an awkward pause, he picked up the red velvet carrying bag Zuko had taken and pulled it open. Zuko assumed he would inspect the contents, but he only held it open so he could pick up the packages of food that had been lying next to it and put them inside.

Somehow, his respect was more humiliating than the boomerang-in-the-back routine. Zuko reached for the bag, and when Aang didn’t notice, had to actually offer, “I’ll carry it. I’m the prisoner.”

Sokka pointed. “Waaait … he might be saying that so he can run off with it.”

“He won’t get far on MY watch,” Toph said, hoisting his swords up from where he'd hidden them behind a bush.

Zuko ignored them. “Please.”

Aang sighed and threw the bag over his shoulder. “It’s a tea set and a tooth brush. I think I can carry it.”

And then they were walking back. Toph huffed. “That was a lot of work for one bag of stuff. Where’s your stacks of coins? Your fancy silk pants?”

Zuko had very deliberately not taken more than he needed to survive. He wasn’t a thief. Anymore. Anyway, he’d never been a thief to his people. 

Except, hadn’t he been? He’d lived in luxury while others died on his father’s orders. He’d chased children across the world for selfish honor. Who was he to draw a line at carrying away another bag of goods he could give to the avatar’s cause? He kept doing everything wrong! How was he going to prove he was contrite and gain their trust?

“Quit wool-gathering, prisoner-boy.” Sokka jabbed him in the back, in the exact same spot.

This time, Zuko didn’t feel angry. It was, honestly, much less punishment than he deserved.


	2. Rice a la Prince

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko tries to make himself useful, Sokka tries to break the ice

Zuko spotted his opportunity as soon as they got back. Katara was gathering kindling near a pile of firewood. “I can do that!” He’d shouted too loudly. Everyone stared at him. He bowed for deep apology, with embarrassment. “Water Master Katara, may I light your fire for you?”

She made a strange face and dropped the kindling into an untidy pile. “Were you born this dramatic?”

He took that as a yes. “Pretty much.” He knelt and, perhaps because he was nervous, the spark he drew was small, but it was enough.

He felt all of them watching as he built up the fire. Was he doing it wrong? He had to move his hands together to mind the chain, but otherwise, this was basic camping. He picked up a log and moved it to catch better and saw Sokka staring at his hands. Oh, yeah. Non-firebenders probably … didn’t just stick their hands in the fire. It was well started now. He drew back. “I’m not much of a cook, but I can boil rice and make tea, if you want.”

“The eager-to-please act is creepy.” Katara knocked the rice pot toward him with her foot as she stomped off. 

“Creepy or not, I’m excited by the lack of me doing work.” Sokka dropped a bag of rice next to Zuko.

Aang frowned. He still had Zuko’s bag of possessions. “We all help out, Sokka.”

“Yeah, but there’s no reason prisoners can’t help out MORE.”

Zuko held his hands toward the bag. “May I have the tea things? There’s some packets of spices, too.”

Aang set the bag down and removed items one by one. “You don’t have to cook for us.”

Zuko picked up the tea pot as soona s Aang set it down. “If I were on my own, I’d be cooking for myself.”

Sokka sniffed a tightly wrapped paper square from the palace kitchens. “You didn’t bring a single coin, but you brought spices?”

Zuko wasn’t above snatching the precious package away. “You try eating random game without them.”

“Uh … you just described my last four years of dinners.”

Zuko ignored the comment. It felt good, having something to do with his hands, something he was competent at. He must have boiled a thousand pots of rice on the run, and a million pots of tea in the tea house. He felt himself start to relax. A little. It would have been easier without Sokka there.

Sokka seemed incapable of being anything other than relaxed. He lounged near at hand, examining his tea-cups, asking questions about slight differences in cooking technique and filling in unneeded detail about food at the south pole, which sounded horrible.

Meanwhile, Aang sat cross-legged on the other side of the fire, watching Zuko like he might be trying to poison them. 

Yeah, that wasn’t awkward at all. Still, he managed to answer when spoken to and keep a handle on his manners. “Because it didn’t make sense to only take one tea cup. I might meet someone. I was planning on meeting you. Yes, that’s a serving spoon. No, we don’t have … whatever that is in the Fire Nation. Hand me the knife. Because these need to be chopped. It’s not that big a knife. Fine, you cut these, then.”

Sokka diced up the vegetables that had been waiting at hand for their supper, and Zuko only winced and took a sharp inhale when the savage LICKED his knife before wiping it on his pants. 

This was surely the hardest test of patience he’d ever endured.

Then Sokka waggled a finger at his own eye and asked, “So how does a fire-bender get burned, anyway?”

Zuko felt his back teeth clench. “The same way anyone else does. Carelessness.”

“Oh come ON. That scar has to have a story. Was it a bar fight? A battle? Oo! Fire bender ritual combat!”

If life were fair, it would completely erase every time Zuko had lost his temper that he was able to keep his voice low and even and say, “Yes, it was fire bender ritual combat.” Life wasn’t fair, and anyway, he hadn’t been able to keep the dripping disdain from his tone.

“I can’t believe I guessed! You aren’t just saying that, are you? What’s it like? Do they make all the kids fight each other in the Fire Nation all the time? That explains some things.”

“The food is ready.” He’d timed it pretty well, pouring the tea to steep as he scooped the rice into bowls.

Sokka reached forward. “Hey, great!”

Zuko stepped right past Sokka to serve the avatar first. Aang accepted with a wary nod.

He decided on Katara second because she FELT high ranking, and was still deliberating on if the earth master was above the water master’s brother despite her age when Sokka dove in and served himself. 

Then everyone was coming forward in a jumble and just … grabbing food. He tried to pull the kids back, get the eldest fed first, but the littlest one ran right between his legs!

Zuko gave up and found a place to sit outside of the scrum. He let his head and the stone chains hang. His forearms ached from the unaccustomed weight and now he wasn’t even sure if he was going to get to eat. He had planned on serving himself last, but who knew if they’d leave anything. 

Aang sat next to him. “We’re not in a palace, Zuko. You don’t have to do everything so formally.”

Zuko’s hold on his temper snapped. “We didn’t have a blessing, there aren’t any napkins, people are getting seconds and not everyone has been served! This isn’t informal. This is chaos.”

Aang laughed, a real, unselfconscious kid laugh. “That’s us all right. Team chaos.”

Zuko hadn’t meant to be funny but he smiled. He could see the humor in it. He supposed this was another piece of pride to be gotten over. It prickled, it rankled, to get up, nudge his way through elbows to secure his own portion, but he did it.

Zuko resumed his seat and sighed. The rice looked a little undercooked, actually, and the sheer volume had drowned out the spices. Also, the vegetables hadn’t mixed in to the bottom, so all he had was a single lump of something green with a fat white seed. He ate some and found it bland. So much for impressing Team Avatar. He’d have to add cooking to the long list of things he was terrible at.

“Who would ever have guessed we’d be eating rice prepared by a prince tonight?” Sokka came over to Aang, picking his teeth.

“It does taste pretty royal.” Aang mused. So even legends could have bad taste. Aang scooted closer to Zuko. “When do we start firebending?”

Zuko stopped trying to eat. “As soon as you like.”

Aang frowned, looking at the stone chain hanging between Zuko’s wrists.

Zuko shifted and the stone chain swung, digging the cuffs in with its motion in a way that was already feeling permanent. “It won’t get in the way for the basics.”

Aang’s big smooth forehead creased. “If you’re able to fire bend, are we just lying to ourselves that chain does anything?”

Oh. Zuko didn’t have an answer to that, because he knew the chain wasn’t really doing anything. If he wanted to attack them, he could. The point was to make them feel safe. Zuko looked away. He was using a lie to make them trust him. “We’ll start with stance and breathing.”

“Ugh. Does EVERYTHING have to start with stance and breathing? I’ve done that a million times now.”

The kid-sent-to-chores tone made him relax. The question of the chain was forgotten, for now. Never mind that Zuko would have been kicked into a wall if he spoke like that to a teacher. On his way back from being blasted into the air. But … he was a prisoner-teacher, so he kept that to himself. “After supper, you can show me what you already know. IF you’ve mastered a technique completely, we can skip it.”

“Great. Just so you know, air bending practice is a lot of breathing. Like, years of breathing.”

“Yes, but did you breathe fire?” He couldn’t help but smile at the wide-eyed reaction to the question. 

“Not so fast.” Katara walked over and dropped a cloth in front of him. “His highness is doing the dishes, first.”

Zuko gave her the shallowest, I’m-only-doing-this-because-you’d-kill-me bow of acknowledgement. A withering rebuke of her presumption, tied in with the pure insolence of bowing around his food bowl. But Katara just walked away and Aang said, “You sure bow a lot.”

Zuko sighed.

What did he even have in common with these people? 

There was a weird monkey-thing that crawled around the avatar’s shoulders and made trilling noises. Zuko set his bowl down and watched the creature approach hesitantly. Zuko nudged the bowl toward it, and it dove on the food.

The avatar was looking at Zuko strangely. Zuko picked up Katara’s dropped cloth and went to find washing water.


	3. The Chain Gaang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haru, recalling how the Fire Nation treated his father, has a task for the prisoner. Teo intervenes.

Washing dishes was at least something Zuko knew how to do properly. He started with the tea pot, and he was back at the shop at the end of the day, tired and sore and sliding the pad of his thumb around the inner lip, poking his pinky into the spout to wriggle any stains out where the customers could see. 

An older teen in Earth Kingdom clothes stood over him. “Prince of the fire nation, huh?”

Zuko finished the pot and dipped it, pouring a little rinse water through it. “Formerly.”

The guy just kept standing there, no hint of emotion, as Zuko struggled to keep the stone chain from hitting the tea cups as he put them in the water. Finally, the boy said. “It’s too bad we can’t lock you away from all fire.”

Zuko looked up, caught the anger, the significance in his glare. Then the boy turned to walk away. “I’m going to go find a lot of heavy and menial work for you to do when you’re done with that.”

Zuko had been waiting for the real payback to begin. So far everyone had been cold but polite. Well, fine. It wouldn’t be worse than what now passed for a typical day with his family.

The boy came back just as Zuko was rinsing out the cook-pot, the last item to be cleaned. “Let’s go.”

He lead him deeper into the temple, to a cavernous room lined with statues. “As you can see, there is a huge pile of rocks over there.” He pointed where some ancient calamity had crumbled part of one wall. “I think we need a huge pile of rocks over here.” He pointed to the far side of the room from the pile. “Get moving.”

Zuko could point out that there was no clear reason to move a big pile of rocks from one place to another. He could point out that if there were a reason, Toph could do it in a second. He knew this wasn’t about utility. He got moving. 

***

Haru didn’t expect the guy to do it. Zuko approached the pile of rocks like a warrior preparing for battle, and selected one that was wider than his chained hands could spread. He crouched low and levered the thing onto his shoulder, holding it in place against his head with his forearms. He hauled it across the room, footsteps heavy, with all the uninterested determination of an ant dismantling a picnic. He dropped it and it cracked on impact.

“Set them down gently,” Haru said. The former prince gave him a hateful look and started walking back to the pile. “And pick up the pace. Don’t take all night.” Zuko jogged the rest of the way.

These were the kinds of things Fire Nation guards had barked at Haru, at his father, at his village. Cruel orders for the sake of being cruel. They felt … gross, in his mouth. Like gristle.

Zuko selected another boulder almost too big to carry. There were plenty of smaller ones. It took him several tries to get it up on his shoulder, and he grunted in effort balancing it, almost stumbling into his walk, faster this time.

He stopped on the far side and stood a moment, before lowering himself, one knee, then the other, to roll the boulder gently down.

Then he ran back.

Haru wasn’t enjoying this as much as he thought he would.

Teo came up behind him. “What’s going on? Whatcha watching?”

Haru felt caught out, but held his ground. “The Fire Nation put every earth bender in my village in a prison, metal floors, out over the water, no access to any earth.” It wasn’t what Teo asked, but he could see for himself. Zuko stumbled under the settling weight of a fourth stone. “And they made them work. Endlessly, maintaining the prison, or just doing stupid, repetitive things to keep them tired.”

His friend was quiet a long time. “Oh.”

He felt judged by that quiet “Oh” and by Teo staying there, watching, as Zuko transferred three more stones. He was running out of the ones that were just as big as he could carry and picking up smaller ones, now. 

He was conserving his energy. He really expected to move the whole pile.

Teo said, “You know, this doesn’t undo what happened to your dad.”

“You don’t know what it’s like, seeing someone you love, who you look up to, forced to work, talked to like they’re nothing.”

“Actually, I kinda do?”

Haru tore his gaze from the fire prince, who was now carrying a few smaller rocks clutched against his chest. Teo looked sad and serious. “I know we had it pretty good, my dad and me, we could pretend most days that we were free … but the Fire Nation made my dad build terrible things. Things he didn’t want to make. And I hated how they ordered him around. That tone they used. He put up a brave front, but I knew it made him feel helpless, too.” He sighed, and Haru knew, here would come the blow, like a fist in soft words. “I can’t imagine, wanting to make someone else feel that way.”

Zuko was back at the pile, trying to roll a boulder as big as he was, now all the rocks in front of it had been cleared. It was barely budging. Haru stepped forward. “That’s enough.”

Zuko lay half on the rock, looking at him through sweaty hair like it was a trick and he was bored waiting for the punchline.

Haru cleared his dry throat. “I’ve decided we don’t need a new rock pile after all. Having two smaller piles works.”

The prince pushed himself to his feet. There were scrapes on his forearms and his jaw, raw and new and entirely Haru’s fault.

Why WOULD anyone want someone to feel this way?

Teo zipped over, showing off his tricky steering with unnecessary maneuvers like he always did in front of new people. “Want to see the echo chamber? It’s not far. And there’s this amazing room full of screens, gears, and wheels. I think it’s some kind of air bender test.”

Zuko looked at Teo like he was nuts. Haru felt second-hand embarrassed. “He doesn’t want to go sight-seeing, he’s a prisoner.” Now they were both looking at Haru like HE was nuts. He cleared his throat. “Anyway, it’s getting dark.”

Zuko turned to Teo, and after everything his voice was calm, diplomatic, “I would like that, thank you, but I need to stay where more people can see I’m not trying to escape. Perhaps another day?”

“Oh, hey, I understand. The offer stands.”

And the two boys exchanged smiles, like this was … like they had met on a school ground. As Teo passed on his way out, he said, “He seems nice.”

And that was, honestly, the problem. So far, the prince of the fire nation seemed NICE. 

Zuko walked up to him. In a rough voice, he asked, “Anything else?”

Haru mentally crumbled up his anger and threw it away. “No. I was just messing with you.”

Zuko nodded like, well, of course you were, and followed Teo, back toward the main camp.


	4. Breathing Lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko and Aang have a heart-to-heart

The next morning, as Zuko washed up the breakfast dishes, Sokka asked, “So, how about you come food-gathering with me?”

Zuko kept his eyes on the cup he was rinsing. “I don’t know how to do that.”

Sokka scratched his head. “It’s not hard. You wander around and if you find something edible, you take it.”

The cup clean, he heated it to dry it. “Like I said, I don’t know how to do that.”

Sokka continued to explain as Zuko set the cup with the clean ones. “Hunting. Without the animals part. Or you can just do the hunting-animals I guess.”

Zuko held one wrist under the other to keep the chain from hitting the bowl he was picking up. “Not a trained hunter.” How many times did he have to say it? “I tried, all right? I wasn’t good at it.”

Sokka looked confused. “I thought you and your uncle were on the run for a good long while there. What did you guys do, for food?”

“We bought it.” Zuko looked around for another bowl to wash and found he’d done them all. Great, now he had nothing to ignore Sokka with. 

“But you had to run out of money. We run out of money SO FAST.”

Nothing like being reminded of some of the most dishonorable, humiliating moments in his life. Since he doubted they’d trust him faster if he said he’d been a thief, he said, “We begged.”

Sokka’s face hung slack in shock, which was a pleasing thing to see. 

“Prince Zuko, slayer of conversations,” Teo laughed, wheeling by.

Sokka shook himself. “Well, look, we’re just getting settled in here, and the food stuff is usually Katara’s thing, and she already hates you? Anyway, it just makes sense having a waterbender clean up. She does it in four seconds! We have to find something else you can do.”

“I bend fire. I can clean up, and cook, badly. That’s all the skills I have that aren’t…” he waved overhead. “Wildly inappropriate for the setting.”

The littlest kid, that they called The Duke for no descernable reason, wandered up, picking his nose. “Is Zuko our slave now?”

“No,” Sokka said.

“Yes,” Katara said, in the exact same firm tone. She was sitting not far away, reading a scroll, making rather a show of not doing the dishes, whatever Sokka thought about her desire to keep the job.

“I need to go meditate,” Zuko said. Before he started yelling again. 

No one stopped him from walking to the edge of the platform. He began to settle into a meditative posture, but his damn hands couldn’t go far enough from each other because of the chain. He clenched his fists and made a frustrated growl before he got himself under control and just changed to a different standard pose.

He concentrated on his breathing, and drying his hands. It took longer than usual to regulate his body heat. Well, great. Can’t hunt, can’t tell an edible plant from poison, and can’t stop being a temperamental brat after a complete lifetime of temperamental battiness. Maybe, if someone in this abandoned temple needed a poem translated or a treaty explained, all those years he’d spent learning to be a future fire lord would come in real handy! Maybe they’d like to see some economic formulas!

Zuko had not slowed his breathing a mote when he felt Aang settle down beside him. “We never did get to those breathing exercises.”

Thanks for another reminder of what a failure I am, Zuko thought, but he kept his mouth closed. Full breath in, slow, hold, release, slow.

He felt Aang match his rhythm almost immediately. The kid did know his breathing. Somehow, it helped, knowing someone else was matching him. Relying on his pace. He got his exhale out to a seven-count, and his heart was slowing, too. He let his eyes open. The jungle canyon before them was beautiful. Some birds flew over the trees. Uncle had loved this view.

“Sokka means well,” Aang said, between breaths. “And Katara … her heart is in the right place. She’ll come around.”

Hold. Release. “She doesn’t have to come around. I’ve done nothing worth her forgiveness.”

Aang’s breath faltered. He got it back quickly, though. “Forgiveness doesn’t work like that.”

Didn’t it? He supposed he’d know for sure if he’d ever succeeded in making amends. For as far back as he could remember, he’d been seeking forgiveness. For being a poor bender. For failing a test. For speaking out of turn. Though, obviously, succeeding in capturing the avatar would have been not a good thing, in hindsight. Now Zuko’s breathing was off again. 

“I was angry,” Aang said, quietly. “So angry. I don’t like being angry. But you almost got me killed. I was in the avatar state. I don’t expect you to understand that, but dying then would have ended the whole avatar line. Forever. Everything we’ve done, it would have all been for nothing. Even all the way back to my parents giving me up to the temple. Just everything.”

Zuko couldn’t say he was sorry, because the word stuck in his throat, small and useless. The stupidest decision he’d ever made, and for what? That tiny sliver of hope that his father might love him? How many times had he made that mistake?

Aang was looking at him. “But I didn’t agree to this because I was angry. I did it because of what I saw in your eyes. I don’t know why you need to be here, why you were so afraid to leave, but I’m waiting to find out.” 

And now he was waiting for an answer Zuko couldn’t give. The silence stretched uncomfortably. Zuko gave up trying to get his rhythm back and stood. “It seems to me you have no trouble with controlling your breath.”

Aang hopped lightly to his feet. “I’ve been telling you!” 

“We’ll get started on your training. That’s what I’m really here for.” He looked around. There was another large, open space not far. He started walking toward it.

Aang side-stepped in front of him. “Maybe we should get Toph to take those chains off, first? It’s bad enough watching you try to make tea in them.”

“TRY?” He’d gotten MUCH better at tea! He’d followed every step his uncle insisted on! The leaves hadn’t been bruised or the water over-boiled or … Zuko closed his eyes and took in a breath. So much for meditating the edge off. “The longer the chains stay on, the more your friends will see I’m committed to this. The more they’ll be able to start trusting me.”

Aang looked doubtful. “I don’t think trust works that way, either.”

“Do YOU trust me?” Zuko regretted the question the second he asked it. What a trap for himself. Of course, Aang didn’t trust him yet, and now he’d be forced to say it out loud, and both of them would look worse to the other and Aang would resent that and …

Aang smiled. “I trust you to know fire bending. How do we start? What’s the basic basics? I mean, aaaalll the way down basics?”

It was cute how nervous the kid was. Right, he’d had a bad first experience. It wasn’t uncommon. “The first thing to know about fire bending is—”

And that was when an explosion rocked the temple.


	5. Broken Chains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Combustion Man! Ah, we knew him. A fellow of infinite BOOM.

Rock fragments were falling all around Zuko, children were running, yelling, the peaceful ruin had become a war zone.

“It’s Combustion Man!” Sokka shouted.

UGH that stupid name. ALL FIRE IS COMBUSTION. But it was the assassin he had hired, himself, stupidly, standing on a high ledge over them, looking down with deadly purpose. Zuko ran forward, waving to get his attention. “STOP! Don’t! It’s me. I’m the one who hired you! STOP!” But then the next blast hit and damn if it didn’t feel like the whole place was going to collapse. 

Zuko tried to counter, anticipating the next attack. The form was cramped by his hands being chained. He didn’t quite grab the fire completely, and he fell hard on his side rather than let go of it, but he got it to explode in open air, not harming anyone or the structure they were standing on. That was all the win he had time for as the next attack was coming. 

These blasts were too intense, too concentrated to dissipate, even if he had complete freedom of motion. He felt the edge of the next one, like grabbing onto an oiled cannonball. It slipped his control easily and rocked the temple.

He scrambled to his feet just to be knocked down again as the floor bucked beneath him. There was no point dying to maintain an illusion. He brought his wrists together, took a slow, careful breath, and then pulled them apart fast. The first try didn’t work. He did it again. Stone fragments hit his face as a center link snapped in half. Trailing the broken halves of the chain from his wrists, he jumped and scrambled for a handhold to lift himself up to where the assassin was.

“The deal is off! I won’t pay you!” The rocks he clung to exploded and he had to leap for another handhold. He was almost there. He landed on the ledge. “Okay, how about I will pay you, double, if you stop?” Which was an empty promise, but it only had to work for a second. He really should have grabbed some money when he left the palace.

The assassin was implacable, immovable. What a time to have picked the right man for a job. He tried to subdue him, on the narrow ledge, and it was like fighting a tree. A strong tree. There was barely room to stand, much less move. Zuko grabbed for the man, tried to wrestle him, and felt the ground give way under his feet. Now there was nothing he could do but try to hang on, to keep from falling.

As he struggled to get back up on the platform he saw the assassin was clutching his forehead, eyes squeezed shut in pain. Zuko reached for him. 

The next explosion was a lot closer, and … meaty.

Yuck. A fine mist landed on his face and arms. Zuko got the rest of the way up on the ledge and sat, rubbing himself clean with his shirt. There wasn’t anything left of the assassin large enough to throw. Zuko knew from experience that when something horrifying happened, it was best to move, and keep moving, until your mind had time to stop caring. He was grateful he had to jump and climb back, a long and dangerous path. It always felt harder, going down over a chasm than going up. He was sweating and tired by the time he landed on the floor where everyone else was coming out from the scattered rubble. 

Toph hurled a fallen boulder off the edge of the platform. “What a mess.”

Damn. They were all out in the open now, and looking at him. Him, with his no chains and the evidence all around them of what he’d done, rather recently, to try to kill them. Zuko quickly bowed low, then thought better of it and kneeled for a Severe Apology. “I’m sorry.” The broken stone chain-pieces scraped the floor under his hands. 

“See? THIS is why we can’t trust the fire prince!” A pebble hit his back.

Sokka’s voice was quieter. “Easy, Katara, Zuko … may have just saved us.”

“From what he sent after us!”

Toph nudged the loose stone links laying on the floor with her toe. “You could have broken that at any time.” She sounded disappointed. 

Zuko held his wrists toward her. “It was an emergency. I won’t break it again, if you re-do it.”

Aang put a hand on Toph’s shoulder. “Which is why we won’t.”

“Yeah,” Toph said. She rolled her hand and the stone cuffs fell away completely, melting into the flooring they’d come from. “Where’s the fun in that? He’s just choosing to stay, either way. Hmf. I thought I really made those good.”

Aang patted her shoulder. “You can try again if we ever capture another prisoner.”

Zuko stared at his wrists, at the raw, indented skin. Everyone was walking away, talking, moving on to the next thing.

Sokka touched his elbow. “Come on, there’s a lot to clean up.”

It felt like forgiveness. Maybe? Zuko nodded and let Sokka guide him. Maybe the water tribe warrior wasn’t so bad.

Then Sokka patted his arm condescendingly. “We can get you new pretty bracelets if you miss them so much.”


	6. Bowing Practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post learning to fire dance with dragons, Aang worries he's upset his fire bending teacher by bowing incorrectly. Zuko gives him an illuminating lesson in Fire Nation etiquette.

Aang was genuinely happy for Zuko, getting his fire back, learning that dragons hadn’t been wiped out by his uncle. And it was FUN, doing fire bending! Zuko dropped all that terrible talk of stances and breathing exercises and showed him a neat kata that formed arcs of flame. Aang couldn’t get enough of practicing it. “Fan kick! Fan kick! Wee! Fan kick!”

“You two have been making fires for half the day, and we still need a cooking fire over here,” Katara called. 

Zuko sighed. “I guess we can stop here. For now.” 

Aang bowed to Zuko. “Thank you, sifu hotman.”

Zuko looked horrified. “Don’t bow to me like that.”

“Like what?”

But Zuko had stomped off to light the fire. 

Aang sighed. He followed and poked Katara. “My fire bending master isn’t some spark-stone you get to take whenever you need it.”

“No one has been gathering dried grass to start fires since he got here so it’s fire bend or chew dry rice.”

Zuko straightened as the flames licked into life. “Let me show you how to do it, Aang. It’ll be good practice in control.”

“Yes! That’s great. And then can you show me how you heat up water?”

Katara held her arm out between them. “No practicing with the food! What if you burn it? We’re getting low already with how this army of boys eats!”

Zuko bowed to Katara. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have suggested it.”

Aang groaned. “Why do you always take her side?”

They both stared at him for that. Zuko turned his gaze to the ground. “I’ll gather more fuel.” He walked away, silent.

Katara shook her head. “He doesn’t take my side. You and I are one side, Aang.”

Aang felt weird, like he’d messed up who was who. He wanted his teachers to be friends, but he also wanted them all to like him best. “Well I guess I’ll… go show my fan kicks to Momo.”

***

Aang got the feeling Zuko was avoiding him after that, always seeming to find some way to help out and be busy. There were always new things to be found or scavenged or fixed. It was … nice of him. But definitely avoiding.

It was getting dark when he found Zuko in the monk’s cell he’d taken to stay in. He had lit two small candles on the floor in front of the portrait of his uncle, and he was kneeling, talking to it. 

“I hope you’re safe, wherever you are. I hope my words can find their way to you and you know I’m sorry, and worried about you.”

Aang felt guilty. This wasn’t something he was supposed to overhear or see. He cleared his throat and knocked on the stone doorframe.

Zuko turned, quickly extinguishing the candles with a gesture. “What do you think you’re—” he cut himself off and switched to a more controlled tone. “It’s late.”

“Sorry. It’s been bothering me all day. How did I bow wrong?” Zuko looked confused, so Aang explained, “Earlier? After our lesson? Can you show me how to bow the right way?”

Zuko got to his feet. “You don’t bow to me.” He made an emphatic slash of the air with his hand.

“Don’t they bow to teachers in the fire nation?”

“Of course, we bow to our teachers!” Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a hard breath. That was his “I’m not going to yell” face. Aang was getting used to it. Once he’d taken another breath, Zuko dropped his hand and spoke in his lecturing tone. “If you show less than proper deference in a bow, it’s an insult. That’s the same in your culture, right?”

Aang sensed this was the start of some meaty Fire Nation culture lesson so he nodded eagerly. “And the deeper you bow, the more deference.”

“Yes. If you show exactly the right deference, that is neutral. You’re just being polite. If you show slightly more deference than required, it’s a compliment, or an expression of strong feeling.” He held his hand at different heights to represent different levels.

“It was the same in the air temple. Only … I think we mostly erred toward complimenting. You could get stuck in some who-can-go-lower competitions.”

“But if you show MUCH more deference than required,” Zuko held his hand as high as he could, “The compliment becomes insult again. Do you understand?”

“How can a compliment be …”

“There’s no way it can be sincere at this level. Don’t you have sarcasm in the air temples?”

“OH. Yes. Wait, no. I understand the concept, but how did I show you too much deference? You’re my teacher!”

“You’re the avatar!” He shook his high hand. “You’re on your own level, the only one in the world. And I am a nationless, banished, title-less prisoner!” He dropped his other hand down further with each word, so low he had to stoop. He seemed to realize how ridiculous he looked and brought both hands back to a normal place at his sides. “I can’t even indicate how far down I am without Toph here to dig a pit.”

He looked so … disgusted. At himself. Aang shook his head. “I’m not the avatar when I’m learning. I’m just a student, same as anybody.”

“Even a commoner at his first lesson shouldn’t bow to me.”

Aang needed to get off this conversation topic fast. “Can you show me how you bow to teachers in the Fire Nation?” He saw the scowl coming and quickly added, “Just for cultural interest! I promise to do no bowing in your general direction.”

Zuko looked suspicious, but nodded. “A teacher you like or one you don’t like?”

“Oh wow. I had no idea there was a difference! One I don’t like!”

Zuko had a small smile as he straightened fully and made what looked to Aang like a perfectly polite bow toward the wall. “It’s the hands,” Zuko explained. “You see, if you want to express particular fondness and gratitude to your teacher, you hold them close to the body, like this.” There was something … affectionate about the subtle difference in position. Then Zuko adjusted it again and the affection was gone. “This far out is normal, this far out?” The space between his hands and chest doubled. “That’s ‘I’m only bowing because it’s required.’ And if you make it just shy of rude and perform the bow with just the right amount of stiffness,” he demonstrated. It was the coldest bow Aang had ever seen. Zuko smiled as he rose out of it. “That’s ‘you’re a mannerless cur, but I’m not, so here’s your bow, choke on it.’”

Aang copied the “I don’t like you” bow, being careful to bow away from Zuko. “This is wild. You know a million ways to bow.”

“There’s only maybe four different bows in the world. The differences are... decorations. For example, there’s a political party who hold their fist slightly higher, almost into the palm, like this.” Zuko dropped the gesture quickly. “It’s not impolite, but if you do that, people will think you’re a member of their group. And trust me, they’re … well, here is how you hold your fist just a little lower than normal, to show you’re DEFINITELY not one of them.” Aang noticed Zuko didn’t mind holding that posture. “Again, it’s not rude, it’s a neutral gesture, but if you bow to one of the other group you’re letting them know what you think of them.”

“Heh. Politics.” Aang wanted to know more, but mostly so he could subtly insult people, which was probably not the best thing for an avatar to do. “Why, though? Why all these… tiny movements? I feel like our bows in the air temple were downright sloppy now. The guidelines were way looser.”

Zuko shrugged. “Usually, when I’m bowing, there’s something I’m not allowed to say.”

This was fascinating. “How do I bow to the fire lord?”

Zuko’s eyes widened, even his burned one. “You don’t.”

“Oh come on! You have to tell me. Anything could happen and I need to be prepared.”

There was that angry hand-slash gesture again. “The avatar should react like a foreign head of state. You don’t bow. You incline your head slightly when you wish to show respect.” Zuko demonstrated. “Slight as you can. And not at all to my father!”

“Why not?”

Zuko clenched both his fists. “Because he doesn’t deserve it!” 

“Zuko…”

He let his fists drop and squinched his eyes closed, head back. Oh yeah, ‘not going to yell’ face was back, and like before, it melted into lecture-mode. “If you really must, there’s honor in showing deference even when it isn’t deserved. If he nods to you, and I doubt he would be so honorable, you have to make a nod in return, or it’s an insult. Also, because the courtesy needs to be acknowledged as well as returned, you should make your nod slightly lower.” Muttering under his breath he added, “as slightly as possible.”

“Well, how do YOU bow to the fire lord?”

Zuko’s face blanked. He took a step back. 

“Was that too personal a question?”

“No. It’s just … I don’t think any bow at all is appropriate, anymore, between us.” 

Zuko actually looked bereft. “Well, what if the fire lord was someone else? What if it was your uncle Iroh? He could become the fire lord, right?”

Zuko turned to look down at the portrait. He was still, and Aang feared that he’d gone too far again and would be told to leave.

Zuko’s spine stiffened. He executed a deep bow, then folded to his knees and bowed again, until his forehead pressed the floor, his hands on the ground in front of it. After a moment, he sat up again. He looked sad. “That’s how you bow when you must beg forgiveness, and know you don’t deserve it.” He rose to his feet. “You don’t have to learn that one.”


	7. Laundry Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was previously posted as a stand-alone because I was just so delighted with it when I finished it. I have tried to add a little to it so it isn't a bald repost - hope I didn't ruin the magic.
> 
> AHEM. Possibly the fluffiest, most humorous chapter. Zuko does the laundry. He doesn't know why all the girls gather to watch. Sokka has to explain it to him.

It was two days after being broken out of prison that Katara greeted Suki at dawn and grabbed her by the hand. “Today is a very important day, Suki, and I need you to be a part of it with me.”

Katara looked like she was either about to pull a huge practical joke or she’d uncovered an ancient secret that solved all their problems. “Oookaaaay? I don’t have any plans?”

Katara bounced. “I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve been waiting for there to be another girl on Laundry Day. I mean, one who can see. Come on!”

Laundry day? Suki shook her head. She pulled her prison tunic away from her skin and gave it a surreptitious sniff. Oof. Whatever was special about laundry day, it had come none too soon. Katara led her by the hand, up some stairs to a little protected ledge around a tower room with large windows separated by columns. Toph was already there, swinging her feet over the edge. “Hi Suki, Hi, Katara. Happy Laundry Day.” Toph said this with a mocking shake of her head.

Suki sat next to Toph. “What’s going on? What’s the big event?”

Toph shrugged. “Zuko does the laundry. It’s supposedly very fascinating. Me, I don’t see it. Literally. Katara doesn’t even LIKE Zuko.”

“This is not about liking,” Katara said firmly. “This is a beautiful work of nature on display and I finally have someone to share the experience with.”

Katara pointed below.

They were seated just above and to the left of another balcony, where, sure enough, lines had been strung for laundry, and a no-doubt-once-decorative basin was full of water. “We’re going to watch someone do laundry? I mean, even if it is funny to imagine our former nemesis, Prince Zuko as the local—oh. OH. Never mind, I understand completely.”

Zuko had come into sight, carrying a large basket piled with clothes, and he was shirtless. Gloriously shirtless. I-had-no-idea-that-was-under-there shirtless. 

“Still don’t get it,” Toph said, “But I enjoy listening to Katara lose her mind.”

“It gets better,” Katara whispered, crouching to study the scene seriously.

The basket set aside, Zuko started firebending. Yes, that was very nice with the no shirt and no basket in the way, but Katara’s expression hadn’t changed, so somehow this wasn’t the good part. Zuko kept a steady, frankly mesmerizing rhythm going, keeping a ring of fire around the edge of the tub for a few minutes until a steam started to rise. Ah. Steam. Yes, that improved the view considerably. Then he dismissed the flames and dumped the clothes into the basin. And then, praise be to all the ancestors, he started to SCRUB. Water and suds were splashing, hitting him, and more importantly trailing down every line and curve of flesh.

Suki relaxed against the wall behind her and clapped slowly. “This is … thanks, Katara. I’m glad to be a part of this.”

“My favorite part is actually the hanging up. There’s stretching, and more, you know, lower exposure?” Katara marveled, then cleared her throat and assumed a poor copy of a stern expression. “I mean, I do still hate him.”

“Oh, same. Burned my village. Okay, also rescued me from prison. It’s not quite even? I’m at about half-hate. But I do not hate this view.”

Zuko twisted a shirt, squeezing the water out, which made his arms all taut and ropey. That, she had to say, brought it down to 40% hate, max.

Then, he hung it up, and reaching high overhead like that threw everything into such sharp relief, and there was TWISTING of the torso as he adjusted the edges so it hang fully spread out, and his abdomen hallowed out and his trousers slid down. “Ah, I see your point Katara. Yes, that is nice.”

“It’s good to appreciate beauty in all its forms,” Katara declared with a raised finger, like she was a sage lecturing. They both laughed.

“I hope I don’t get this hopeless when my hormones kick in,” Toph said. “Boys are all right if you want someone to fight alongside or steal things with, but I mean, no more than girls are.”

Suki decided to turn the conversation back to more pressing matters. “He must do a thousand pushups a day. My old trainer would love him.” 

“At least! I haven’t found out where he exercises yet.” Katara cleared her throat. “Uh … Not that I’m looking.”

“I’ll help with the not-looking. Still, knowing him, he probably keeps his shirt on, anyway.”

“Yeah. He never takes it off to teach Aang.” They both sighed in disappointment.

***

Sokka saw his sister up on the ledge again and knew it must be laundry day. But then he saw Suki with her, and looking just as DELIGHTED. Oh. Oh no. That was a bridge too far. This little ritual was going to have to stop. Sokka stormed down to the lower balcony and there was Prince Hot Stuff, all wet and flexing and working, that sweaty effort, the violent, repetitive motion … wow.

Sokka looked down at his own arm. He made a fist. He shook his head. So maybe he could do a few more training reps a week. Okay, back on mission. “Hey, sparky! Let up a minute. That shirt knows what it did wrong, and I think it’s suffered enough.”

Zuko turned to frown at him. Okay, so the front view was also impressive. He … should stop thinking about it. Anyway, Zuko had gone back to rinsing the shirt and wringing it out and bulging biceps and … that was the whole problem. Sokka took a firm grip on his belief in himself as completely uninterested in men and walked up to Zuko. “You’ve got to stop. Seriously, with the glistening and the dripping suds and the flexing, ESPECIALLY the flexing.”

Zuko looked genuinely confused. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about that!” Sokka pointed up at the ledge.

By the time Zuko turned his head, Toph was sitting there alone. Wow, could Suki and Katara move fast when they wanted to.

Zuko turned back to Sokka, eyebrow raised. “Toph?”

Sokka put his arm around Zuko’s (muscular, bare, steamy—don’t think about it) shoulders and led him away from the dangerous suds. “Suki and Katara were up there, too, watching.”

“I know. Katara always watches me do the laundry.” He half-shrugged. Damn, even the shrug was sexy. “It’s about power. She likes putting me to work.”

“That is NOT what this is about, and when the clue finally lands you are going to be so proud of me for not making the obvious joke on ‘putting’ things ‘to’ people and …” Sokka groaned. It was simply unfair to be handed material like this. Why did humor and wrongness have to go so well in hand? “WE ARE TALKING ABOUT MY SISTER.” Sokka took a step back and released a quick breath. Despite the shout, Zuko was just staring at Sokka like a confused turtleduck.

Sokka cleared his throat. “Let’s ask a completely unrelated question. No reason at all, but, have you ever noticed people acting differently around you when you take your shirt off?”

Head-tilt, deeper frown. “No. Why would they?”

“You’re going to make me say it. Out loud. Ugh. Zuko! You are … nnghhh…. very attractive.”

Zuko took a step back. “Are you mocking me?”

“No, it’s the irritating truth. You are scrambling the brains of two intelligent women with the very existence of your chest.” Not to mention a certain genius, himself. Sokka gestured emphatically at the offending hotness. “HOW do you not know this?”

Zuko looked back up at the ledge, where Toph waved and Suki and Katara could just be seen, peeking out from behind different columns. Zuko shook his head. “That’s not it. They’re gloating over me having to do a lot of hard work.”

“I regret to inform you IT is very much IT, and I’m asking you, as a friend, as a compatriot-in-arms, as a man who has a girlfriend, please put your shirt back on.”

Zuko gave him this amused smirk, like “Oh I see the gag; two can play this” and pulled his wet shirt out of the laundry with a slurp and slap, and yanked it on, getting his hair all wet and oh dang, dripping fat drips down his abdomen as he forced the clinging fabric down. Two squeals of feminine delight rang from overhead. Sokka thought his head would explode. “NO YOU IDIOT! THAT’S WORSE!”

Zuko threw up his hands. “I don’t know what you want. Is this a test? Are you trying to make me angry?”

Up on the ledge, Katara and Sukki had come out to study and discuss Zuko’s clinging shirt like it was a very important matter of philosophy. Toph was gripping her gut from laughing. 

“Give me strength. Let’s start over. Zuko, man, buddy, just trust me on this one as an impartial outside observer with no reason or, really, desire to compliment you: you are very good-looking.”

Zuko’s reply to this was to deadpan and wave his hand up and down over the scarred half of his face. 

“Yeah, fine, the scar is NOT your best feature, but they aren’t looking above your chin, buddy.”

OH. That landed. Zuko’s eyes widened a fraction. He looked up at the ledge again. Suki waved. Katara dove for cover. Toph was rolling with laughter.

Zuko seemed to be really thinking, at last. Come on, fire brain, put some facts together in a line… He pulled the wet shirt away from his skin. “I … I do have to wash this. I don’t have another shirt.”

Score one for team Sokka. He reached to put a hand on Zuko’s shoulder, then thought better of it because something far lower than his brain was excited about that. He turned the gesture into a point. “We’ll get you a second one, first chance we get. For now, maybe, I dunno, wash it first and firebend it dry?”

With a nod, Zuko held his arms out and a steam rose from the shirt, the clinging folds dropping from his form as the color lightened.

From above, Katara shouted, “I’m going to kill you, Sokka!”


	8. The Adult in the Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So around my 90th time re-reading Laundry Day I realize Hakoda is uhhh there? Somewhere? And I felt the dad in the room should have something to say about the silly teens and c'mon who doesn't love a little Dadkoda?? 
> 
> Zuko is peak confused turtleduck.

Zuko watched in tense worry as Katara chased Sokka around the campsite. He’d be honor-bound to protect Sokka, as the non-bender, but he really wanted Katara to like him … and it wasn’t good for the avatar if either of them were injured … 

Except Katara did nothing more violent than splash Sokka with a wave from the fountain, and what he thought were screams were laughs. Awkwardly, he realized that this was … playing. No one was trying to kill anyone. He … recalled that his relationship with his sister was not what anyone would call “normal.” 

He dropped the ready stance he’d been holding and went to finish the laundry, feeling generally put-upon.

The truth was, laundry was easier without a shirt. You got wet, you got sweaty. But his gut twisted at the thought that he would be, somehow, inflicting himself on people if he took it off again. “Scrambling brains.”

Zuko had never, in his life, expected anyone to tell him he looked good. Or even that he looked … normal. He was always too weak, too scrawny, too short, too UGLY. And that was before half his face was burned off.

The evidence seemed pretty conclusive, though, that he had at least one good feature. Mai had liked to run her hands over his chest. He’d always thought it was in spite of how he looked, not because of it. Mai was not the most effusive giver of compliments. Probably they’d have never gotten together if she were, because receiving one compliment, however unwillingly, from Sokka had him seething and feeling insulted. Like Aang’s bow. It wasn’t meant as mockery, but it felt like it. 

So when he got his shirt wet, he dried it. He concentrated on the work and stopped thinking, which was, honestly, why he didn’t mind work like this. He could be alone, but not stuck in his mind.

“Well, I’m guessing that’s over, for now.” 

Zuko flinched at the sudden voice, though it was quiet and calm. Katara and Sokka’s father leaned casually against the wall, looking up where his children were still arguing, albeit less rambunctiously. Suki was standing between them, gesturing emphatically, like a referee.

Of all the people he didn’t know how to act around, and that list was pretty much ‘Everyone except Fire Nation nobles who aren’t family’, Hakoda was the absolute most … uknowable-how-to-act-around.

Which wasn’t a word, but should be. “Sir,” Zuko said, which he recalled was a correct honorific among the Water Tribe, and hoped it would be taken as greeting, agreement, non-comment, and please-go-away.

Hakoda looked … amused. “How does a Fire Nation prince learn to wash clothes, anyway?”

Get sent to the laundry for a month in punishment when you’re a kid every time you wet the bed. Then when you’re older and spill something. Then end up on the run with nothing more than the clothes on your back and an uncle who didn’t care much about personal appearance, and see how you can use that knowledge to keep yourself presentable. Zuko didn’t say any of that. It all involved too much explanation. “It’s not hard.”

Hakoda gave him a long, narrow-eyed stare. “Were you always this chatty, or did it take years of practice?”

What did this man want? Zuko threw a blanket over the line and let it hang there, sopping, un-wrung, bowing the line with its weight. Ugh. There was no un-doing that now. It would look weak. Why did people always want to CONVERSE? 

The chief wanted something from him. Probably an apology. The sooner he gave it, the sooner he could stop trying to talk. He turned to Hakoda and bowed for a simple apology. “I’m sorry, for … “ his mind blanked on what to say. Sorry for possibly accidentally seducing your daughter with my unexpectedly attractive chest? He looked anxiously up, where the argument had ended, and everyone was sitting around the fire, like friends. 

“Causing a stir?” Hakoda straightened away from the wall. “Oh, I don’t think that was your fault. In fact, I came here to check if I needed to apologize to you.”

Was this a new form of mockery? He barely controlled his expression, kept his voice neutral. “You’ve done nothing.” The words aren’t entirely polite. 

“I meant for my children’s behavior. I didn’t catch all of that, but I have a bad feeling some lines were crossed.”

A father apologizing for his child? What bizarre upside-down world was the water tribe? “No, sir.” Since Hakoda was still looking at him in that slow, interrogative way, he added, “No lines were crossed.”

Hakoda’s gaze was too wise, like it was piercing right through him. “If there were, would you tell me?”

Zuko could hear his silence answer for him, a resounding no. His mouth was dry. The laundry was done. His hands were wet and cold. Hakoda took a step closer. “That’s what I thought. You know, Zuko, you’re allowed to complain.”

All he’d done all his life was complain. Wasn’t that what everyone said? “I don’t think you understand what I’ve done, sir. To them. To others.”

Hakoda crossed his arms and leaned closer, dropping his voice. “Well, I know you tried your level best to kill them, so I doubt what I don’t know is worse.”

The whole point of this conversation was a threat, wasn’t it? Zuko knotted his fear into resolve. He met those frightening, too-wise eyes. “I never meant to hurt anyone. My intention was to capture the avatar, and I was wrong, I know that now.”

“So why are you the last person here to forgive you for it?” Hakoda raised his eyebrow, waited for a response, and sighed. “Just do me a favor, and tell me if they get out of hand. They might be saving the world, but I’m still their dad.”

“What does that even mean?” Zuko asked it under his breath, not even intending to, not meaning for it to come out so angry. Hakoda’s eyes grew wide, and then narrow. That was angry. He was wrong before, the man wasn’t angry at all before. “I mean … sorry. Sir. I know you’re their father. You want them to … behave correctly.” Unlike certain disgraced princes.

Hakoda was quiet far too long. Then he shook his head. “I hope you do know what I mean, some day.”

Zuko watched him walk away feeling like he’d been run over, but not sure by what.


	9. Prince Zuko, Slayer of Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko confronts Katara about Laundry Day. Because Laundry Day has taken over this fic and I'm not sorry.

The laundry was all hung up. Zuko drained the basin, rinsed it, and then carried the water-bucket back to the well.

Katara was there, starting the preparations for their midday meal. She sulked as she drew water out of the well with a gesture and let it fall into the kettle.

Zuko felt the blisters where the bucket handle cut into his palm. Where it had cut into his palm all day as he hauled water to the laundry tub, and hauled water yesterday to wash Appa. And hauled water the day before to clean the floor. He dropped it, loudly. Katara turned to him, startled. She didn’t look even a little guilty. “Oh, Zuko. Check if there’s any meat left from what Sokka put to dry.”

The instinct to just do what he was told was strong. He clenched his fists. “I’m not carrying water for you anymore. It’s obvious you can do it yourself.”

“Excuse me?” Her anger quickly turned embarrassed and she looked away. “Look … just because Sokka likes to, ha ha, make some jokes about someone enjoying watching laundry…”

“I thought you were making me do it to humiliate me, and I was fine with that, but now I know you just wanted me carrying heavy things so you could … look.”

Her eyes widened, then narrowed. “I didn’t ask you to take your shirt off.”

That was her answer? Not a hint of denial? It would be so easy to let this become a fight. He wanted to fight. To wipe that look off her face. Instead, almost shaking from the effort, he bowed. A very precise, neutral bow. The bow of being too angry to add anything. “Thank you for not dishonoring me with that request.”

***

Katara stared at Zuko just walking casually away, her mind stumbling in an effort to come up with a withering parting remark. How DARE HE? How full of himself! He wasn’t THAT pretty. 

“Fire jerk!” was what came out. Not her best work. 

She turned back to the well and saw Aang sitting on the other side of it, his eyes as big as saucers.

Oh no. “None of that was what it sounded like.” Oh, would her mouth even WORK today? She needed to start the porridge. She got the ingredients to the pot and saw the fire wasn’t lit. UGH. Didn’t Zuko see that needed to be done when he was here, before he got all dramatic?

She stomped about, trying to find the fire-starting kit they so rarely used now. “Where is it? Does no one else put things away?” 

Aang was suddenly in front of her, smiling sadly, and holding the box with the spark-stones. “I think you should go apologize. I can start this.”

“Apologize?! Did you hear what he just said to me? Like I’d order him to take his shirt off! Like I’m some kind of … person who orders people around. He doesn’t have to keep doing whatever I tell him to!”

“I don’t think he knows that,” Aang said. “I think … we all forgot he was our prisoner, but he didn’t. He thinks he still is.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Well, tell him that.”

Why was Aang so darn GOOD? It made all her petty feelings stand out, obvious. And she’d just been ogling another boy. A boy she didn’t even like. “Aang, I …”

“I know,” he said, and he so obviously did. He let his forehead touch her lowered one. Aang could give a hug almost without touching. She felt tired, resigned.

She had to apologize for laundry day having become … what it was. She nodded, and Aang went to light the fire, and she walked toward the stairs up to where Sokka had set up meat-drying racks.

Only to find Zuko already coming back down, scowling, with a tray of meat in his hands. They stopped, facing each other, a few steps apart. Zuko definitely didn’t look like he was going to talk first. Katara took in a big breath and got the hard part out of the way first. “I’m sorry.”

Zuko’s eyes widened, which always, irritatingly, made him look young and injured, the way one eye couldn’t catch up. 

How dare he look so surprised? She apologized for things all the time! She was emotionally mature!

She pushed the anger down. “You’re right. I was … I was looking. But I didn’t ask you to carry things for that reason.” She probably shouldn’t say it wasn’t as interesting with his shirt on, but there were times when something was particularly heavy and his sleeves would pull tight and … oh dear, he was looking weary, like he knew what she was thinking. Katara found herself suddenly eager to look anywhere other than at him. “You don’t have to do whatever I say. I’m not ordering; I’m asking. You haven’t been our prisoner for a long time, now.” She risked a glance back at him. Slack-jawed shock. “I guess we just … forgot to tell you. Anyway, thanks for getting the meat.” She grabbed the tray from his unresisting hands and hurried back to the fire.


	10. Laundry Day II: The Rise of Laundry Lord

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay this is how I chose to end it. Sorry.
> 
> Aang and Sokka ask to do the laundry this time! Suki reveals her secret identity as a diehard slash fan.

Seeing Katara forgive the worthless garbage that had killed her mother made Zuko realize some of what Hakoda had been saying. And Aang. Forgiveness wasn’t a transaction. It was a gift.

He also knew it wasn’t something you could force. He wasn’t quite ready to give it to himself, but maybe, if Uncle forgave him, it would follow. 

For now, it was enough that he wasn’t infuriated with himself all the time. For a rag-tag team on the run, life was pretty calm. Zuko walked around the campsite, their largest basket on his hip, picking up discarded dirty clothes. Ugh. Was he the only one who minded smelling like a goat? Why would you want to save the world in clothes itchy with old sweat? Toph was the worst. Her clothes were FILTHY.

He straightened from fishing Toph’s spare trousers out from under a literal pile of dirt and saw, to his surprise, Sokka and Aang looking at him with matching may-we-have-candy-before-dinner grins. “What?”

“Can we do the laundry?” Sokka asked. 

Aang added, “Pleeease?”

“Uh … yeah.” Zuko handed the basket to Sokka and watched, confused, as the two boys rushed off like it was a great prize.

Well, okay. Less work for him. Maybe this was part of them … forgiving him? He went to wash his hands and face in the stream. Time to himself! He could meditate. That sounded wonderful.

But he had no sooner found a nice place to sit when he was interrupted by girlish giggles. Suki and Katara and Toph were together, on the cliff-edge over the stream, conspiring like priests. He followed Katara’s arm, pointing.

At the stream side below, Sokka and Aang were flinging laundry and soap bubbles around, shirtless, flexing their muscles in exaggerated poses.

Oh.

They wanted to do the laundry so they could get attention from the girls. Why was Zuko always the last person to catch on to these things? Would it have killed the palace tutors to throw an occasional “how normal people interact” lesson in the middle of all that military history and tactics? 

He still didn’t see why doing laundry was, somehow, sexy. They could take their tunics off and flex at any time. Bathing. Bending practice. Why mix it in with the chores?

He went up to the ledge to hear what the girls were saying. This could be … illuminating.

Suki rested her chin on her hand. “How is there any ice left on the South Pole with that hotness around?”

“Shut up! That’s my brother!” Katara pushed Suki playfully.

Toph kicked her feet. “Ah. That’s the interpersonal conflict I’m here to mock.”

“It’s a compliment. Your brother is gorgeous; therefore, your family are all good-looking. You see? I complimented you. Well done, picking your parents.”

Zuko cleared his throat to announce his presence and took a seat next to them. The silence was sudden and sharp. Suki and Katara both leaned away from him, and two pairs of eyes stared at him in abject horror.

Toph cackled. “Oh man, your heart rates just SPIKED. Did Zuko do something with his face? Is it super weird? I need descriptions of expressions, people!”

Suki recovered first. “Everything’s fine, Toph. Hello, Zuko. We’re just admiring my gorgeous boyfriend, and Aang, who is not as gorgeous, by established, logical fact.”

Katara flushed, turning her gaze firmly back to the boys below. “Aang is adorable. Sokka is a dork.”

Suki nudged his arm. “So what brings you here?”

“I’m just trying to understand the appeal.” Zuko frowned. Chests, check. Soap, check. It was about as interesting as a group of birds splashing in a bath. Only … ugh! What was Aang doing with that sock? It was never going to get clean, gingerly swishing it in the water like that.

Suki scooted closer and enthusiastically explained, gesturing, “You see the soap bubbles glide down his body and you imagine touching where the soap touches. All the dips and curves. Think of it as a meditation on FORM.”

“Think of it as disgusting teenage lust,” Toph translated.

Now Sokka was just … slapping Toph’s trousers against a rock, to no purpose. They were still soapy, it wasn’t the point at which you needed to drive water out of it.

Suki cleared her throat. “A-and if you were to touch, saaaay, Sokka, in any particular place, maybe you could tell me which place would be most interesting?”

Zuko was trying to figure out how to begin to answer that when Katara suddenly interjected, with a guilty tone, “They know we’re up here. Everyone is an equal participant.” She blushed and turned her gaze back down to the stream. “And Aang is every bit as pretty as Sokka.”

Aang was STANDING on a dirty blanket. In the muddy stream.

Zuko couldn’t take it anymore. He jumped to his feet. “That’s not how you do laundry.”

They stared at him like he had a turtleduck on his head. “Nothing is getting clean! They’re just throwing clothes around and splashing each other!”

“Yeaaaah,” said Suki, dreamily.

Katara sat up primly. “They’re getting soap and water on the clothes, too. It might not be perfect, but every little bit helps.”

“No, it doesn’t. The soap will stay in. Things can stain. It’ll feel rough to wear. I can’t believe I’m explaining this to a bunch of girls.”

“Hey,” Toph threw a clod of dirt at him. “What about being girls means we should know about laundry?!”

Zuko blushed. “Girls … sometimes … care about clothes?” He rubbed the back of his head. “This is crazy. I have to go down there before they rip something.”

Suki got to her feet, excited. “YES. You should go down there and show them how it’s done. Be very HANDS ON.” She put her arm around Zuko. Katara elbowed Suki’s leg, and Suki kicked at her, trying to shoo her. “Hold his hand, show him exactly how to move, slowly at first, then picking up speed.”

Zuko felt very uncomfortable with her eager smile so close at hand. “Uh … are we still talking about laundry?”

Toph stretched her toes over the cliff. “You should know, hot stuff, Suki was making all kinds of comments about you and her boyfriend.”

Suki turned and hissed, “That was said in the spirit of sisterhood, Toph, which includes secrecy, but now it’s out in the open” and again with the eager smile, inches from his face. “… how do you feel about kissing boys? No one in particular, I’m just gauging interest.”

“SUKI!” Katara wheezed, face turning almost purple.

Toph scoffed. “What is so hot about two boys kissing? That’s two boys not interested in kissing you!”

“You’ll understand when you’re older!”

“No she won’t! Can everyone please … stop talkimg.” Katara looked like she was going to pass out.

Zuko … still didn’t get it, but he had a feeling self-preservation lay in a quick exit. He jumped down to the streamside, landing next to Sokka and Aang, who stared at him in confusion.

He yanked the tunic Aang was holding out of his hands. “You’re doing it wrong.” He picked up the “drying” clothes and threw them all back together in a pile to start over.

“Awww.” Sokka looked down at his bicep, flexing. “I thought we were doing great.”

“You’re not rubbing the clothes to make your arms move. You’re knocking the dirt out of the weave. Like this.” Zuko set to scrubbing a sock against itself.

He could feel a strange air of … despondency around him. Like he’d ruined the fun.

And that was when a wave of water fell on him from out of nowhere.

“Yay Katara!” Suki shouted.

Katara, still looking horribly embarrassed, fiddled with her hair. “Uh … my hand … slipped?”

“LAUNDRY FIGHT!” Toph declared, and jumped down, splashing in the stream. She grabbed a pair of shorts and flung them at Zuko, where they slapped against his face, then tumbled down.

It was like time froze for a moment, and Zuko was only aware that he had been challenged, and that the only weapon in his hand was one of Sokka’s dirty socks.

And then, without conscious will, he threw, and he was watching that sock smack Toph right between the eyes. She blinked at him, owlishly. Shit. He shouldn’t have done that. He cleared his throat. “I’m sor—”

Toph threw the soap bar with a roar, and he barely deflected it before it beaned him. Time started up again with a vengeance, things happening all around him in a maelstrom. Clothes flying, people jumping, splashing, bending water and rock.

Sokka threw a sopping wet blanket over Zuko then, and as he struggled to get out from under it, he saw, to his dismay, Suki flicking fan-fulls of water as she danced out of the way of balls of fabric coming from Katara. Aang fishing clothes downstream and flinging them back, Sokka and Toph hurling soap-suds at each other.

And … from that point … very little scrubbing happened.

***

Two hours and a lot of soaking later, Zuko relaxed in the sun. It took a long time to marshal the troops and get them in line, and yes, all the clothes they had on had to be washed, too, but now the others were hanging up the last of the clean laundry, muttering a lot of, “no fun” and “the wrath of the laundry lord.”

Aang came over and, smiling, sat down. “I wish chores were always this fun.”

“Chores are chores. You don’t do them to have fun.”

“Eh. I think fun is what you make of it.” Aang leaned back, holding his ankles. “So do you think … do you think Katara liked …” he blushed.

“Watching you fail to do laundry? Definitely. She said so.”

The avatar looked every bit as young as he could, toying with the cuff of his pants, twisting his toes. “Not as much as she liked watching you, though.”

Why did anyone WANT to be looked at? It just made Zuko uncomfortable. But that wasn’t the point. He realized there was something vulnerable in the avatar’s asking. He sat up. “Hey, when I was your age, I was way scrawnier.”

“NO.” 

Zuko liked knowing he’d made him look so shocked and pleased. “Yeah.”

They settled into a comfortable silence. Just two friends, watching the successful completion of the washing. Now if the whole, actual, defeat-his-father part could go as well.

Zuko shook the thought from his head as unhelpful. “This was fun. I know it’s … kinda dumb, but I feel like a part of the group.”

“You ARE a part of the group. You have been. And we’re glad you’re here, Zuko.”

That filled his heart with warmth, and he wanted to package up this feeling and hold onto it, forever.

Then he happened to glance over and see Katara and Suki sneaking his shirt off the clothes line, looking suspiciously around themselves like two thieves. 

Ugh. The Laundry Lord’s work was never done. “I’ll be right back.”


End file.
